


forced conscious expansion

by missgoalie75



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Vegas, F/M, Las Vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgoalie75/pseuds/missgoalie75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The panoramic views of the Vegas skyline keeps Rory occupied as her mom dives on one of the queen beds and doesn't get up. There's a giddiness that forms in Rory's chest as she thinks about the three nights she has in this city. Who knows what will happen.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	forced conscious expansion

**Author's Note:**

> **Characters/Pairings:** Rory, Jess, Lorelai, Matthew, Chris, Lane; Rory/Jess, mentioned Lorelai/Luke, mentioned Rory/Logan
> 
> **Spoilers/Warnings:** AU in which Rory and Jess never met, Rory and Dean dated through her first year at Yale, and she and Logan are quasi-seeing each other and not officially boyfriend/girlfriend; takes place around the time of 6x07, however, Rory has never taken time off from Yale.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Title is from _Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_ by Hunter S. Thompson. Also includes various lines from Thompson and Hemingway.
> 
> As always, thank you to Kahlia/firstbreaths for being a wonderful beta and soundboard. Also thank you to my friends who have heard about this story and were probably confused but were supportive anyway <3

  
_Look at my reflection in the mirror_  
_Underneath the power of the light,_  
_Give me a shot at the night_.  
\- The Killers

At first, plans for Rory's twenty-first birthday had involved a quick trip to Atlantic City at a Black Jack table with cosmos in hand when the clock struck twelve. While the idea and concept were nice and certainly something to look forward to, now that Rory's birthday is actually approaching, Lorelai Gilmore has decided Atlantic City just wasn't a momentous enough location and that they need to _go big_ , or _just do it_ or some other sexual euphemism that's used in sports.

So, the location has changed from Atlantic City to Las Vegas.

Much to Emily Gilmore's horror.

Richard Gilmore, however, has been there for business and says the Bellagio is a _fine hotel_ and some of the restaurants are _quite good_. But that sparked an argument during Friday Night Dinner between her grandparents that has Rory's mom in a good mood for two weeks.

It's not somewhere Rory has ever really thought about visiting – it seems like a dirty, fake place with nothing to do other than gamble and party, none of which sounds that appealing, despite what Logan Huntzberger keeps hinting at during their run-ins on campus. But her mom is genuinely excited about the prospect and is already picking out her slutty party dresses, so Rory agrees. Besides, it'll be nice to experience summer weather again before hunkering down for the winter.

Also, courtesy of Emily Gilmore, they are staying at the Bellagio.

"I'm not having Rory in some bed bug infested motel for her twenty-first birthday. If she's going to be in Vegas she might as well attempt at being in a classy establishment," she announces, while handing Rory a check. Rory's grandma fought hard for it, despite the fact that Las Vegas has plenty of other five-star hotels that would do just fine.

(Her grandfather gives her another check with a much higher number for her "real" birthday gift.)

"We'll find a cooler place to have your first cosmo," her mom says, trying to swallow the bitter pill of accepting her parents' money.

"It's technically mine, you're just along for the ride," Rory reminds her.

But at the moment, having finally landed, Rory is not happy. A delay in flight, plus sitting five rows behind her mother, sharing a row with a rather large man who took up both armrests has put her in a dark mood. Her mom, however, is as chipper as can be, chatting their way through the airport to find a cab to take them to the hotel.

Her birthday is tomorrow, so they plan on touring the strip, ordering room service, and going down to the bar at midnight to order her first drink.

"And I can't _wait_ for the spa tomorrow, it's going to be amazing, I almost feel relaxed already," her mom sighs while on their way to the hotel.

Rory hums in agreement and checks her phone, a little pleased to find that Logan has texted her.

From Logan Huntzberger:  
_Have the wildest time, Ace! Those drinks better be on me ;)_

He tried to give her _a roll of bills_ for her drinks, but she refused on principle. Except, when she checked her purse the night before the flight for her lip balm, she had realized he somehow snuck them in. Sneaky jerk.

"Who's that?" her mom asks.

"Logan. He's ridiculous," Rory says with a smile that might be a little dopey.

Her mom frowns, but doesn't say anything. It's not like much is going on - Logan is just chasing her for fun. Sure, they've hooked up a few times, but Rory's a little nervous - she's only been with one guy for years and Logan is very much _not_ a boyfriend kind of guy. She doesn't know what she wants right now, but for the time being, she likes him. She likes flirting with him.

She puts her phone away and stares at the desert.

**

They have a room with a perfect view of the Bellagio fountains and the Las Vegas Strip.

The panoramic views of the Vegas skyline keeps Rory occupied as her mom dives on one of the queen beds and doesn't get up. There's a giddiness that forms in Rory's chest as she thinks about the three nights she has in this city. Who knows what will happen.

She suddenly yawns so loudly and widely that her jaw cracks. 

(Maybe after she takes a little nap she'll find out what's in store for her.)

**

Her mom decides to start the trip with a bang by putting on her tightest and most sparkly dress.

"You're certainly in the Vegas spirit," Rory says, feeling a little dowdy in her blue dress that falls a couple of inches past her fingertips. They have five minutes until their reservation at Fix in the hotel.

"You have to dress for the venue, young one," her mom says as she puts the finishing touches of her makeup on. "Let's go! I'm going to eat the fattest cows in the restaurant."

"I doubt you'll be able to eat all the meat from the fattest cows."

"I thought I told you to dream big without consequences."

"Yeah, you did, but then I turned five."

"If I wasn't sure I suffered through the Spice Girls phase of your life, I wouldn't be so sure about your ever being a child," her mom sighs as they leave the room, double-checking the door to make sure it's locked.

"Like _you_ have the most stellar taste in music," Rory retorts.

"Excuse you, I have no flaws!"

"We're not having this argument again!"

But they repeat the same argument anyway on their way to the restaurant anyway.

**

Given that Vegas is _extremely_ strict about people under twenty-one stepping foot in bars and clubs, after dinner, they walk through the shops in the hotel and head back upstairs to watch TV until it's closer to midnight.

Rory gets a call at nine from Lane, who wishes her an enthusiastic happy birthday until she realizes it's not _actually_ midnight for Rory – after which she complains for being _such a bad friend_ , but Rory doesn't mind. She hasn't changed her watch yet, so feels a little thrill when she sees it's five minutes after midnight back at home.

On her way to the bar, there's a text from Paris two minutes before Rory's midnight, reading, _I'm going to bed promptly at 3AM to get my cycle in order. Happy birthday, Rory. Don't get too drunk and get married by a bad Elvis impersonator._

The clock strikes twelve, Rory whips out her ID, gets her drink, takes her first legal sip of alcohol and it's sweet.

Her mom demands tequila shots soon after, so they do that twice and there are a number of cocktails and bar food, so she thinks she's an okay level of intoxicated.

"We need street food, definitely," her mom says, cheeks pink and eyes bright. Rory's seen her mom drunk before, but it's fun now that they're both drunk together.

They leave the hotel and _wow_ , maybe she isn't as steady as she thought she was. Her grip on her mom's arm is tight once they're outside, walking down the Strip. Rory's feet are hurting, breaking in new heels, and she demands to stop, so she struggles back to the Bellagio and hopes that her feet will make it.

There's a bench in sight and even though a guy reading in a leather jacket occupies it, she's drunk and in enough pain to not care, so she sits on his other side.

The guy doesn't look up and _huh_ , he's actually very attractive. Very hot. Hmm.

She wonders what he's reading, but she's a bit blurry-eyed and can't quite tell, so without much thought, she tries to lean forward and take a peak.

"What are you doing?"

She straightens up at once, dizzy for a few seconds at the whiplash and stares at him. He has an eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth is twitching in amusement.

She clears her throat. "Trying to see what book you're reading."

He furrows his brow and wordlessly lifts the book.

Rory scoffs. "Hemingway. Gross."

A few seconds pass. "You've read his stuff?"

" _The Old Man and the Sea_ works better than Nyquil."

"You clearly haven't read _A Farewell to Arms_."

"Who says I haven't? I don't judge so harshly without being prepared to do so."

This time he gives her a real, albeit small smile. "And who do you consider to be a literary genius?"

Rory doesn't know why this pops into her head, but she's blaming it on the tequila shots: "Ayn Rand."

He snorts. "Ayn Rand is a political nut."

"But nobody could write a forty-page monologue the way that she could."

He shrugs. "For good reason, who wants to read about objectivism?"

"It's different."

"Is it, though?"

"I might be a little too drunk for this conversation right now. Which is sad. I don't meet a lot of people who love books like I do," she says honestly.

"Yes, it's unfortunate. But you're doing pretty well."

"It's my birthday today."

"Happy birthday."

"I don't drink, really. They keep telling me to, but I never really cared. I get why now, being drunk is weird. A good weird. I feel tingly. And colors look better."

"You're almost cute."

She grins. She'd probably blush if she were sober. "I'm Rory."

"Jess."

"You wanna know what I'm reading?"

"What?"

She reaches into her purse and Jess says with amusement, "You actually brought a book to your twenty-first birthday?" but she ignores him. Once he sees the cover he laughs.

"I'm such a cliché," she says sadly, staring at the _Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_ text.

"Depends – have you read Thomson before?"

"It's almost embarrassing that I've read everything but this. Guess I was saving it."

"Guess so. Do you like it?"

"Prefer _On the Road_ if you're really going for counterculture, which pro'ly makes me boring. Thomson's a bit try-hard."

"Yeah, but you gotta admit, it's kind of a rush reading it."

She's getting a rush looking into Jess' eyes. "Yeah, I guess so. That's the point of reading, right? Experiencing a world you otherwise wouldn't've known."

"Sure. But as you're finding out tonight, there's plenty here."

She doesn't have time to think about what he says because her mom is calling out to her from down the street.

"I gotta go. It was really great meeting you, Jess." She goes to stand up, but the minor pressure on her feet is too much. "I can't stand. I'm going to meld into this bench. This is my resting place for all eternity."

To her surprise, Jess stands up and offers his hands. She doesn't think about taking them, but she does anyway. He effortlessly gets her on her feet and when they stand almost a foot apart, he says, "You know, Ernest would only have lovely things to say about you."

Her blush has nothing to do with the alcohol.

He smirks. "Later, Rory."

He disappears in the bustling crowds by the time her mom reaches her.

"Uh, who was that?" her mom asks, handing her a hot dog and an actual _bag_ of fries.

"I don't know. He was reading. We talked about books," Rory answers somewhat distantly.

She'll probably never see him again.

**

Rory wakes up early – only getting about four hours of sleep – but at least she's not hungover. Her mom is still passed out, so Rory takes a shower, eats half of the continental breakfast, leaves a note for her mom about searching for food and having her cell, and off she goes.

It's six in the morning, so some people haven't rested. She feels underdressed in jeans and a Velvet Underground shirt that Lane and she have shared since middle school with her hair up, but nobody seems to be paying attention to her as she drinks her very large coffee.

"Almost didn't recognize you."

She would gasp, but she's tired and doesn't have the energy to properly relay her surprise, even though her heart races. "I take it you haven't slept yet?" she asks.

"Nah, had work to do," he says, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. He offers the pack to her and she shakes her head. "Figured," he says, taking one and lighting it up. She hates how cool he looks – smoking isn't supposed to be cool. "So, hungover?"

"Nope!" she says proudly.

He laughs a little. "A blessed individual. Where are you heading?"

Rory shrugs. "Don't know. Thought about walking up and down the Strip, hoping I don't get lost somehow, until my mom wakes up and we can fulfill our plans for the day?"

"Plans?"

"Hanging out at the pool, eating and drinking, a few hours at the spa, a date with Black Jack, and some other forms of gambling, depending on how we do."

"Busy day."

"Yeah. So, I take it you're not vacationing here?"

"You take right – I'm passing through. Working a little before I move on to the next city."

"And where's the next city?"

"Philly."

She blinks in surprise. "Really?"

"Why, what were you expecting?"

"I don't know…L.A., New York…"

"L.A. is probably the doorway to Hell and New York is technically my hometown."

"Really? That's cool." She drinks her coffee.

He smirks. "You're not going to ask me about my neighborhood or anything?"

"You could tell me, but it wouldn't mean anything – I really don't know much about the Big Apple beyond the East Village being the cultural mecca and Columbia is in Morningside Heights, which is in Upper Manhattan."

"Clearly you don't if you call it ‘the Big Apple.'"

She sticks her tongue out at him.

"You're obviously just visiting – where from?"

"Connecticut."

"Practically neighbors. College?"

"Yale."

"Ah, a striking combination of beauty and brains."

She blushes and tries to hide it by guzzling more coffee. Once she's done, she asks, "Are you in school?"

"Nope, and I'm very happy about that. As I'm sure every teacher I've ever had is."

"Not the most diligent student?" she guesses.

"A teacher's worst nightmare."

"Being aware of the problem is the first step," she points out. "So what's in Philly?"

"Have a potential job there. I'm heading out there in a few weeks or so."

"Well, congratulations. I'd bundle up – fall has been cold this year."

He grimaces. "Ah, well, I was getting sick of the desert heat anyway." Her stomach growls and he innocently asks, "Hungry?"

"Starved."

"I know a place."

She checks the time and it's only seven, so she agrees.

**

It's off the beaten path, but the French toast is heaven-sent. Jess is eating an egg sandwich that also looks irresistible.

"I'll need to order a few of those to go," Rory decides, drizzling more syrup on her hashbrowns.

"A _few_?"

"This is second breakfast," she tells him, pointing to her plate with her fork and knife. "Had some continental breakfast earlier."

He raises his eyebrows. "Impressive."

"Child's play."

He shakes his head in disbelief, putting down his egg sandwich. "You put syrup on your hashbrowns too?"

"Only in the mornings, though."

"Meaning?"

"If I have breakfast food for breakfast, it's always syrup. If I'm having it for lunch or dinner, it's ketchup."

"Huh."

She flushes. "A little idiosyncratic, I know."

"You don't say."

"But you probably got that about me already."

"S'okay. Most interesting people are that way."

She smiles and looks down at her plate. Her phone chimes with a text and it's her mom.

Mom:  
_Dead_

"Oh boy, she must be hungover," Rory winces. "She just wrote ‘dead.'"

"Did she spell it properly?"

"Could be T9 though."

"Want to order your dozen egg sandwiches now?"

"I wasn't going to order a _dozen_. It was going to be a half dozen. Maybe."

Rory orders three with bacon and sausage and three with just bacon. Just in case. Jess pays, which she finds incredibly sweet, even though he just waves it off.

He walks her down the Strip and most people around seem to be early risers – all the partiers have finally retired. She sneaks glances at Jess' profile and wants to see him again, but what's the point? This has been nice – more than nice, really. But she's leaving on Monday and even though he'll move to Philadelphia in a "few weeks" (what does that even _mean_?), he'll still be far away.

It's not smart, especially since her thoughts are not strictly revolving around friendship.

"You're thinking loudly."

She whips her head forward. "Just, uh, you know. Thinking. About going back home. What I have to do next."

"You're not embracing the full Vegas experience – whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, as the old saying goes."

"It's not very practical. It'll come back to haunt you somehow."

"It could be worth it."

She looks around her and is disappointed she's back at the hotel.

"Jess…it's been –"

"You free tonight?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were free tonight."

"Well –"

"I get out of work at midnight."

"What do you do?"

He quirks an eyebrow. "Meet me tonight and find out."

She bites her bottom lip.

"I'll wait for you here until 12:15."

He smirks and she opens and closes her mouth like a fish, something she's read about but didn't think possible until this moment.

She swallows and has a million and one excuses racing through her brain as to why it's impractical and unsafe – who even _is_ this guy anyway –

"If it makes you feel any better, my permanent record is clean. When I was a minor – not so much, but," he reaches forward and she thinks he's going to push her hair back behind her ear. "I like to make things appear," there's a coin in his hand. He rubs his hand and the coin is gone, "and disappear."

"Little tip – don't ever pull something that like that out of my nose or some other place you wouldn't typically find a coin."

"Noted."

"But a child delinquent who could perform magic tricks. You probably would've entertained me in high school."

"We could still have such a damned good time together," he quips.

She smiles and is a little too wistful when she follows with, "Isn't it pretty to think so?"

When the sun hits his eyes, she sees green and her chest seizes – she wants to dive in and lose air. Logan is a passing thought, which is stupid since he's not even her boyfriend or anything close to it, but he's in her life and she does like him, even if she's a bit confused on what that entails – would he be insulted by this, even though she _knows_ he's currently seeing other people and has encouraged their... _fling_ to be casual? – and this –

"Why don't you get some reading done. Thompson should be good for the practical soul," he suggests before walking away.

She swallows over the lump in her throat and forces herself to go back to her hotel room.

**

Her mom is _eternally_ grateful for the breakfast sandwiches since the danishes and muffins provided by the hotel just aren't cutting it. Rory tells her that she found it on her own.

Rory sighs as she sits by the pool, trying to read, but she's stuck on _buy the ticket, take the ride_ and _forced conscious expansion_. She closes her book and shuts her eyes, face tilting towards the unforgiving sun.

Ten hours until midnight.

She lowers her head when she hears her phone buzzing in her bag.

From Lane Kim:  
_Please tell me you've won a million dollars and you can invest in a record for Hep Alien._

Rory smiles.

From Rory Gilmore:  
_Not a million, but I did win twenty dollars! I can buy you a record._

From Lane Kim:  
_I'll pass – you can keep your winnings. How's it going?_

From Rory Gilmore:  
_Really fun – it's crazy here. It's like a bubble._

Rory stares at the text she just sent and types out another one, sending it without overthinking it.

From Rory Gilmore:  
_I met a really cute guy._

From Lane Kim:  
_DETAILS. NOW._

From Rory Gilmore:  
_Not a lot. Met him on my birthday night and then again a few hours later in the morning._

From Rory Gilmore:  
_He likes Hemingway._

From Lane Kim:  
_You hate Hemingway._

From Rory Gilmore:  
_I know._

From Lane Kim:  
_But you like him._

From Rory Gilmore:  
_Kind of._

Lane is calling. Rory picks up and before she can greet her, Lane gushes, " _Oh my God, you_ really _like him._ "

Rory looks around and sees her mom on the phone, talking to Luke by the look on her face. "But what's the point? I mean, I leave on Monday. We'll never see each other again. And I'm not the _hooking up type_ , as evident by my not-really-a-relationship with Logan. I just –"

" _Rory Gilmore. You need to take one for the team and go with the hot Vegas boy._ "

"There's no way. Besides, I'm with my mom. How am I going to explain that?"

She hears Lane sigh. " _That would be difficult. She's a cool mom, but I don't think any mom is_ that _cool._ "

Rory hums in agreement and re-crosses her legs. She'll have to reapply her lotion soon.

" _So, how hot is he really. Be honest. More than Dean?_ "

She bites her bottom lip. "I mean –"

" _That's a_ yes _– what about Logan. How do they compare?_ "

"Well, that –"

" _You might need to sneak a picture._ "

"I don't think I'm going to see him again." She looks around the pool. "But –"

" _What??_ "

Rory sighs. "He did tell me to meet him outside the hotel after midnight."

" _You absolutely have to go, like there's no question about it._ God _this is so inspiring, maybe I'll write a song about it!_ "

"Lane, you've written one song and it was about the old rocking chair that sat in the corner of the shop since you were three."

" _Well, maybe this amazing opportunity in your life will change my talent._ "

Rory laughs. "I'm not doing it."

" _Rory, come on. This guy is cute and smart and_ reads _– he actually_ reads _. I have a lot of memories of you complaining about Dean. Many hours I lost. Do it for me._ "

Rory takes a deep breath. "Bye, Lane."

" _Bye, soon to be former best friend - unless you run away with him!_ "

**

She's still distracted in the spa, grateful that she's alone with the very talented masseuse.

It's just not _safe_ – isn't this how young women are kidnapped?

But Rory has a hard time imagining someone with a brain like Jess would be capable of something like that, especially when he says _Ernest only has lovely things to say about you_.

(She's grateful she's on her stomach, looking down at the floor, because her face is on fire.)

Her mind drifts as she considers the possibility of meeting him. What would happen? He may be handsome, but he's not Gregory Peck and she's far from owning the grace of Audrey Hepburn. Rome is a city rich with history and there's something rather sad about Las Vegas if she thinks beyond the neon lights and multicolored chips she cashes in. She imagines walking through the hotel entrance and seeing him standing in front of her with a book in his hand and then…?

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath, letting herself be lulled to sleep by the cheesy meditation music.

**

A few months ago, Rory was invited out by some girls from the Life and Death Brigade to go shopping for some ridiculously lavish party that Logan, Colin, and Finn were hosting at some hall in New Haven, mostly because they were bored and because they could. While everyone was excitedly pulling dresses off the racks, not bothering to check tags until the cashier recited the total, Rory was hesitant, eyeing beautiful fabrics and only checking half the price tags, already knowing she couldn't afford any of them.

Rory is _not_ one for charity, but she's a little tipsy off the two mimosas she had during their brunch break and the black dress they put her in is just _so nice and pretty_ that she doesn't realize that someone had bought the dress for her until she's sitting in her dorm room, sober and mortified.

She had tried to return it, but they were sneakier than she thought and they ripped off the tag from the dress and hid the receipt from her. So, for the last few months, she's been stuck with a _really_ nice dress that has only been worn once (that Logan _definitely_ enjoyed, but Rory had been too nervous at the time to do anything about it).

So here she is, standing in a lavish Las Vegas bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror, contemplating ripping the dress off to let it sit her suitcase for the rest of the trip and then back in her closet for another few months until she's braver.

"I _need_ your curling iron – mine just died a slow, horrible death, I could _feel_ the life my former curling iron, poor, dear Doris fading away in my hair," her mom complains as she storms into the bathroom. " _Wow_ , missy, that's quite a dress," she says, cocking her hip to the side, mock-leering at her. "Hoping to get some?"

Rory rolls her eyes. "Come on."

"No, seriously, let me know so I can take all the pillows and sleep in the bathtub."

"What color lipstick should I wear? Or should I go with gloss?" Rory asks, ignoring her mom.

"Well, do you want to go full on _femme fatale_?"

"I'm the _last_ person who can pull of a _femme fatale_ – do you even know me? Are you sure you gave birth to me?"

Her mom scoffs, "Uh, _hello_ , have you forgotten the twenty years of my brilliant storytelling of your birth?"

"To be fair, I have no memory from before my fifth birthday, so I guess a few more times will eventually do the trick. Now seriously? Help me and I'll give you my curling iron."

"How dare you hold Maria hostage?"

Rory just shrugs her shoulders.

Her mom sighs dramatically before grabbing Rory's makeup bag, searching through it with purpose until she finds what she's looking for. "Here – kissable is the way to go," her mom says before leaning in and kissing Rory's temple. "You do look beautiful," she tells her seriously.

Rory smiles. "Thanks. Now here, take Maria and don't take forever – we have reservations at seven."

**

Rory isn't as naïve as she once was – she knows she's not an eyesore and she's used to a certain amount of staring, but being out tonight makes her feel like she's under a spotlight.

"Told you," her mom singsongs as yet another man ogles at Rory.

Rory flushes, feeling like she's at that stupid party all over again. She should've just worn her navy dress.

They're at the slot machines and as the night goes on, her mom is yawning in increasingly shorter intervals. Rory checks her watch – five minutes to midnight.

"That trippio espresso is doing _nothing_ for me right now," her mom complains. "Babe, I'm going to be so lame, but do you want to head back upstairs? I swear tomorrow we'll paint the town red and then some." Her mom looks genuinely upset. "I'm getting _old_."

Rory rolls her eyes. "You're not _old_. But, okay sure," she says because what else is there to say? Suddenly, she feels she wasted the entire night trying to disappear into the art around her or sink into the carpet and marble floors.

They play the slots one more time and they win a few bucks, so they cash their winnings and hop into the elevator. She stares at her reflection as the mirrored doors close – her waves have almost straightened out completely and her lipstick has left nothing but a stain. There's a slight buzz in her head from the prosecco they've been drinking throughout the night. Her feet don't hurt at all.

The doors open and her mom steps out first, lamenting about her uncomfortable shoes and Rory stops in the middle of the hallway, her heart beating uncomfortably, painfully in her chest, like she's missing something she has to do.

"I think I lost my cell phone in the casino," Rory says before she can plan the words in her head.

Her mom has already unlocked their room. "Oh no, really? Do you want me to go down with you?"

"No, it's fine, it probably fell out of my bag and it's under the chair or something," Rory says quickly, pushing the elevator button down.

"You have your key? In case I manage to pass out within five minutes? Which seems very likely."

"Yeah, I do, it should be fine," Rory says, giving her mom a comforting smile even though her legs are trembling a little as she steps into the elevator. When the doors shut, she takes a deep breath. She quickly checks her watch and sees that she has a two minutes until 12:15.

She rummages through her bag, hoping to find a stray lip-gloss or lipstick, but all that's in there is her overstuffed wallet, her phone, her cardkey, Thompson, and a lip balm. Making due, she quickly applies her lip balm, at least grateful there's some color in it, and tries to be cool.

A minute and a half.

She rushes out of the elevator and through the lobby, passing through the casino, ignoring stares. It all seems so _big_ now and she's running out of time –

She's finally outside and the air conditioner from the hotel flips her hair in her face as she searches for him. She checks her watch and it's 12:17.

She exhales, dropping her arm and looking around a final time –

There he is.

He's reading and completely ignoring the screeches from a bachelorette party and she's not nervous anymore.

He looks up and they walk toward each other. He slips his book into his back pocket and her face flushes.

"It's past 12:15," she says.

"You look nice," he responds.

"Thank you. What are you doing here?" she continues, liking the way his eyes make it back to hers.

"I thought you needed another minute or two. Figured I'd wait a little longer."

"What – why?"

He shrugs. "Just wanted to."

Rory thinks she knows herself pretty well at this point in her young life, or at least understands what things may change, and what things won't. Impulsivity? Doesn't seem to be something she'll grow out of or manage anytime soon. In fact, as she leans forward and kisses him, taking him by surprise, she thinks it very well be a permanent fixture of her personality.

He's quick to adapt, very quick, and kissing him is so far from kissing Dean, her constant base of comparison, light-years of difference, and she can't about think much of anything with his soft mouth and warm hands on her face.

She pulls back to breathe and steady herself, to get her mind processing things beyond the light smell of his aftershave and his crazy hair that's probably driving her crazy.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi."

He leads her away from the hotel by the hand.

**

"A deal is a deal, you have to tell me what you do," Rory says as they cross and make their way down the Las Vegas Boulevard.

"I really have two jobs," he explains. "I work at an Elvis wedding chapel a half mile away."

" _No way_."

"It's really just grunt work. Besides, it put things into perspective."

"How so?"

"That I cannot reach the low of getting married by an Elvis impersonator officiator."

Rory snorts. "Fair enough. Then what's your second job?"

"A diner." 

"The one we ate at?" she asks, surprised. "Why didn't you say so?"

"No, a different one."

"This is the _most_ important question: do you have to wear a costume?"

"No."

"That's a yes, that's _totally_ a yes," Rory laughs.

He rolls his eyes, but he keeps holding her hand.

When she passes by a clock that says 12:30, she fishes her phone out of her bag and shoots a quick text to her mom:

From Rory:  
_Found phone, talking with a guy at bar, will be up later. Xor._

A little grain of truth always sells a lie – she learned from the best.

From Mom:  
_OK. Told u :P_

She shakes her head and puts her phone away.

"A buddy of mine is getting off his shift at one," he says, nodding towards the Cromwell. "We can wait inside. Play a round or two if you want."

"Sure, I have some money to burn," Rory says immediately.

This is probably wasn't what Logan intended, but she simply doesn't care.

**

When she pulls out her wallet to buy chips, Jess whistles lowly when she takes out what's left of Logan's gift.

"Gotta tell you, I wasn't expecting that," he says with an amused shake of his head.

She blushes and purchases a hundred dollars' worth of chips. "It was a gift from a friend. He wanted me to have the full experience without 'silly limitations,' as he put it," she explains with a wry tone.

"Very generous."

"Yeah, it is. I tried to give it back, I never held that much cash in my life, but he snuck it into my purse when I last saw him, I guess."

They walk down the hallway that looks like it's made of gold and she occasionally glances up at the bright red light fixtures.

"Does it work?" he asks curiously.

She swallows thickly. "Sometimes," she admits. "It's not my world – I never grew up like that. With money. It was always something I associated with my grandparents. Not me."

"You pull it off nicely," he says.

She looks down at her dress self-consciously, wishing she were wearing anything else in her suitcase. She almost tells him the story of how she even got this dress, but what's the point?

"I feel like I'm playing dress up half the time," she says.

"And the other half?"

They find an opening at a craps table. "Like I'm discovering something I didn't realize was there." She looks down at the table with all the squares and is immediately overwhelmed. "Okay, I have no idea how to play this."

"I'll guide you, you'll pick it up."

She doesn't pick it up, especially when they start ordering drinks and she's trying not to snort a dirty martini up her nose.

"You're not getting this at all," he laughs as he puts down ten dollars worth of chips in the Field section of the table. "Twelve," he tells the dealer.

"What are you doing?" 

"We have to meet Matthew up front, so we have to leave. One more roll, win or lose."

"Why twelve?"

"It's twenty-one flipped," he explains. "Bad odds, though," he adds, but he doesn't seem nervous about it – he seems pretty pleased, actually.

She finishes her drink and the dice is rolled. Everyone cheers as the dice lands on two sixes and Jess smirks. "We win." He gets up from the table and collects the money before helping Rory from her seat. "Let's go."

He hands her the chips and they're off.

**

She doesn't know what she expected when meeting Jess' friend, but it certainly isn't a guy in a sweater vest.

"Come on, you know how much this valet hates me," he urges as Jess gets into the passenger seat and Rory slips into the back. "And who's this?" he asks as they leave the hotel and get on Las Vegas Boulevard.

"Matthew, this is Rory. Rory, Matthew," Jess introduces.

"Nice to meet you," Rory says.

"A pleasure. How the hell did you meet this degenerate?" Matthew asks.

Jess flips him the bird.

"We bumped into each other while I was very drunk on my birthday," Rory says, too drunk to take the insult on board. "We talked about books."

Matthew cranes his neck to look at her. "Oh. That's certainly a meet-cute."

"Shut the fuck up, Matthew," Jess says casually as he turns on the radio.

"This is pretty much what I pictured at the thought of you having a friend," Rory thinks out loud.

Jess laughs a little under his breath.

"Jess doesn't _have_ friends, so he likes to lie in order to hurt me," Matthew says. 

"You have your moments," Jess allows. "How long are you on antibiotics for?"

"Three more days," Matthew sighs. "You and Chris owe me _big time_."

Jess waves him off dismissively.

"So…uh…where are we headed?" Rory asks after Jess finally lands on a classic rock station that's playing Metallica.

"Don't worry, Rory, this is a nice place because I picked it," Matthew says.

"Despite the sweater vest, he actually does pick the best places," Jess reassures Rory.

During the twenty-minute drive, Matthew explains that he and Jess met during Jess' first week in the city and the rest, as they say (who 'they' are, Matthew doesn't know, he tells her) is history.

"He's stuck with me forever," Matthew says, clapping Jess on the shoulder. "Meant to go to Philly together."

"Wait, really?" Rory asks, surprised.

"That's a long story that's best shared over a lot of alcohol," Jess says as Matthew parks the car.

They have to push through a steel door to get into this particular bar, and huh, Matthew does have nice taste.

"I'm _very_ curious about this arrangement," she says as she glances over the drink menu, which is a list of concoctions she barely recognizes any of its ingredients besides whiskey and _absinthe_ – "I'll try something with absinthe, why not?" she decides out loud.

Jess is attractive, there's not a doubt about it – seeing him in the harsh daylight hours before was one thing, but there's something about the sharpness of his jawline and the darkness of his eyes in this barely lit bar that has her wanting. "As you wish."

There's a booth reserved for them, and she doesn't know how that's possible, but she stops thinking about it as she sips her drink and leans into the leather back of the booth.

"I don't think I'll _ever_ be able to drink again – this is a work of art. And it's _absinthe_ ," Rory gushes.

"Thank Chris, he's a mixologist," Matthew says.

"I see you're pimping me out as usual," a guy says as he slides in next to Matthew. Jess shifts closer to her and drapes an arm behind her head. She leans into it. She wants him closer.

"Sorry, Chris," Matthew says with a nod to Jess and Rory. "They're smitten."

Rory blushes and takes a large sip of her cocktail.

"Rory, Chris, Chris, Rory," Jess says quickly. "Here, want to try? It's whiskey," he offers to Rory.

They switch drinks and she crinkles her nose at the smoke and fire in her throat.

"Shane needed a ride – her car is still in the shop," Chris says.

"Who's Shane?" Rory asks, getting her drink back after Jess sneaks another sip of it.

"She works in the entertainment business," Matthew says with a stutter while Chris and Jess say, "She's a stripper," at the same time.

Rory blinks in surprise. "Oh."

"It's a very nice strip club," Matthew explains.

"Stop being weird – you know she makes more money than all of us. She's okay for the moment," Jess snorts. "She's just saving up money so she can move to California."

Rory has questions, like, as a feminist who thinks stripping is a last resort, but this drink is hitting her _hard_ and all she can focus on is the music and her arm pressing against Jess' side.

And what's ever left of a sober conversation ends about then.

**

"So then _I_ realize the place he was gonna work," Matthew says loudly, "and was like, ' _Jess_! That's my _brother's_ company – _Trunch-e-on_.'"

"I didn't believe him – he has a dumb sense of humor," Jess adds.

"Like I would _joke_ about… _tradition_ ," Matthew half-sings.

"See, told you."

"You know what, _Jess_ , make fun of me all you want but you were _proud_. You even laughed at my impressions of my family." Matthew shakes his finger at him.

"You laugh?" Rory asks out loud without thinking, and Chris snorts into his drink.

"He does quite a remarkable impression of a crotchety old woman. The Yiddish was a nice touch," Jess explains, ignoring her relevant question.

" _Tradition_!"

"Don't forget the _novel_ –" Chris insists, but then winces and reaches under the table and nothing else is shared about that, except – "I'm following them too," Chris says. "I just have family there, but I'll end up working with these chums."

"He begged us," Jess says to Rory.

"You _wish_ , Mariano," Chris drawls, taking Jess' drink and finishing it off for him. 

"Asshole," Jess says without heat.

They almost remind her of Colin and Finn, except there's something genuine about the way that Matthew and Chris are together and how it feels like they're _really_ friends with each other.

And with Jess.

"Rory, darling," Chris says, pushing back his wild hair as he leans forward. Jess is occupied with Matthew's rambling regarding the hotel he works at. "I don't know who you are or where you came from, but you must be exceptional." He subtly nods towards Jess. "He doesn't do this at all."

She flushes. "Trust me, I don't either. Do this. At all." She glances over at Jess before looking back at Chris, smiling.

"God, he is so _fucked_ ," Chris laughs.

"Who's fucked?" Matthew asks.

"I certainly am," Chris answers, leaning back into the seat. "So what's next on the agenda, Dean?" he directs towards Jess.

Rory nearly chokes on her drink until she realizes that it's most likely a Kerouac reference.

"We're trying new things," Jess says. "So, Rory. What now?"

She looks around the table, polishes off the rest of her drink, and says, "Whatever next inspires us."

**

It's hot, obviously, even at close to three in the morning, but the fresh air feels good on her flushed face as they leave the speakeasy.

"The _lights_ ," Rory gushes as they stumble down Freemont Street. 

"What is _with_ you and the lights?" Jess asks, a steady arm around her waist. She doesn't know _how_ he's put together when he drank more than she did.

"Y'know, we like shiny things as…evo…lutionary. Looks like water," she stutters.

His eyes reflect the flashing lights and she wants to kiss him until they fall.

He pulls her closer and kisses her and _oh_ , how is he so good?

" _Oi_! Don't make me resort to Yiddish!" Matthew half-yells, his sober worrying very hilarious. "Enough!"

"We should take Rory to Shane," Chris says. He almost sounds sober except his eyes are not focused on anything in particular and he's stumbling more than her.

"C'mon," Jess dissents.

"You don' think I could _do it_ ," Rory guesses, offended. "I'll go!"

And that's how they end up paying an entrance fee to a strip club. Her mom would probably kill her for funding such a misogynistic enterprise.

It's exactly what she expected from movies, but at the same time, there's a certain level of disconnect she experiences - she's in a _strip club_ with three strangers, one of which she's insanely attracted to, and she's _never_ been this drunk, ever.

But there are other women around – beyond the half-naked dancers – so she doesn't feel _so_ out of place, in that distant, half considering way. 

More drinks are ordered and Chris asks for Shane from the waitress who brings over more drinks. Her beer tastes like water.

"I can't believe I'm here," she says, leaning back in her chair, trying not to linger too long on any particular dancer. She's half-embarrassed and fully grateful for the darkness.

"You're lucky I'm on the clock otherwise you'd all get smacked," a sultry voice says by Rory's ear.

Rory whips her head to find a woman with long blonde hair – definitely a wig – and the smallest patches of fabric covering herself.

"What are you doing here?" the woman asks, moving towards Matthew, who looks ready to pass out.

"Shane, our new friend Rory here has never been to an establishment such as this," Chris explains, finishing off his drink – didn't they just get those ten minutes ago?

Shane glances over at Rory. "I'm Shane," she introduces herself as she straddles Matthew's lap. "How do you know these clowns and who thought this was a good idea?" She starts murmuring something in Matthew's ear and Matthew responds inaudibly, but she can see some bills move from his hand to hers. She sticks the bills in her bra.

"Why do you strip?" Rory asks, not knowing if her filter disintegrated when she finished her beer or if she left it at the door. "Do you, like, not like feminism?"

Jess snorts into his drink and coughs. "Oh, Ror, we need to continually force the conscious expansion," he says after he clears his throat.

_God_ , she's never really thought about wanting to sleep with someone, but now she really, truly is.

Shane smirks and peels back some of her bra, revealing a wad of cash. "I'm not crying about it," she tells her. "Not something I want to do forever, but I'm happily saving away." She looks to Jess as she rolls her hips onto Matthew's. "Willa sends her love."

The corner of Jess' mouth quirks.

"Who's Willa?" Rory asks before ordering another beer from a passing waitress.

"Shane's two-year-old kid. A goddamn menace," Jess explains.

"Quit the bad boy act, you're a fucking softie," Shane says. She looks down at Matthew with a smile. "One day I'll see your package," she tells him.

"What?!" Matthew squeaks.

Rory looks to Jess with a wide grin. "Do you read to her?"

"I'm on _Ham on Rye_ now."

"You are _not_."

"Sometimes I alternate with _Howl_ depending on how fussy she is."

She bites her bottom lip.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asks.

"Yes."

**

They must've somehow walked from the strip club and up a set of stairs to a small apartment, but everything is fluid and she misses things, her vision unclear and she can't make judgments on its state, especially when they stumble into his bedroom and he's kissing her, his mouth hot and she needs him _closer_.

She's guided to his bed and lowered down, her short dresses is bunched around her hips and his thigh is hard and perfect against her and she needs him _closer_ closer _closer_ – 

She whimpers against his mouth as she rolls her hips and his hand moves from her waist to her stomach, under her dress to touch her. She can't think of being self-conscious or nervous, that she hasn't done this in a long time. She has a passing thought to move her hand to his pants, but she's _close_ and as she throws her head back, his mouth moves to her neck and she spreads her legs open more to meet him properly –

She doesn't think she's ever made a noise coming until tonight.

She shuts her eyes and tries to catch her breath, her limbs pleasantly buzzing. It's not until he starts to roll off her when she opens her eyes and grabs his shirt. "Wait – I –"

He gives her a lopsided smile. "S'okay. Inadvertently taken care of."

She blinks. "Oh. Sorry?"

He exhales a laugh, bringing a hand to her hot cheek. "You're something else."

"Chris said I was exceptional."

"Sure, that's one word for it," he teases. "I'm just gonna change."

She nods and watches him slide off the bed, rummage through his drawers for a pair of jeans and underwear, which makes her flush even more. Once he leaves for the bathroom, she tries to focus on his room through the drunk buzz in her head. It's sparse beyond the piles of books on the dresser, on the floor, and by his bed. She leans over the edge to pick up some of the books on the floor. She smiles at the battered copy of _Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_ , skimming through the pages and surprised to find narrow handwriting in the margins.

She finds the page where _forced conscious expansion_ is and he has one word written in the margin: _Rory_.

She runs a finger over her name and whips her head to his nightstand to find a pen. She slides herself back into his pillows to grab it, hastily writing in the margin and putting the book back where she found it.

She notices a red spiral notebook beside it and she only gets a peak, recognizing his handwriting and _huh_ , was this the novel Chris was talking about?

"What are you doing?"

She straightens herself up, immediately needing to rest her head against the wall to combat the dizziness. "Looking at your books," she says, watching him lean against the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

"Of course. Do you want any water?"

"Probably. And food, if you have any."

"I can make toast and mac and cheese and that's about it."

"Sounds perfect."

**

They're sitting cross-legged on his bed, sharing an entire box of mac and cheese and a few slices of toast.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," Jess says with a disbelieving shake of his head. "First of all, I'm going to kill you for getting that _terrible_ song stuck in my head."

" _Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer_ –" Rory starts singing again.

"Shut _up_ ," Jess pleads, taking another slice of toast. 

Rory laughs. 

"Your town sounds like a cross between De Smet and Maycomb." Pause. "And most likely _Salem's Lot_. I don't trust that Doose guy."

She snorts. "Seriously, Stars Hollow is _nothing_ like a Stephen King novel."

Jess stops chewing, looking at her in shock.

"What?" she asks.

"Stars Hollow?" he clarifies after he swallows.

"Yeah, it's an admittedly cutesy name, which doesn't help its defense, I guess."

He snorts, still surprised. "My mom grew up there," he says, like he can't believe it.

She blinks in surprise. "Oh, wow, seriously? I've… _wow_. I don't think I've ever had this experience before in my life."

He shakes his head. "Well, with a population of a hundred, I can see why."

"We're not a _hundred_ – we're closer to four thousand."

"So fucking small."

"There isn't a Mariano in Stars Hollow that I know of," she considers out loud.

"There wouldn't be – she never changed her name from Danes."

She stares at him, feeling like she was slapped. "Danes?" she repeats dumbly.

He raises an eyebrow. "You know it?" he asks curiously.

"Any relation to Luke Danes?"

His jaw clenches for a moment. "Yeah…my uncle."

"Liz is your mom," she concludes in a trance. Never in a million _years –_

"How familiar _are_ you with him?" he asks, clearly freaked out now.

"My mom is engaged to him." Rory feels weak and is grateful she's sitting. "They have a date."

Jess' face is unguarded for a moment – disbelief, anger, sadness, maybe, she's not sure – but then he shuts down. His face becomes neutral and she thinks this is the closest she's come to experiencing whiplash.

She looks away and tries not to fidget out of discomfort. The silence is so unbearable that she blurts the first coherent thing that comes to her mind: "Never has 'It's a Small World' been more appropriate."

He snorts. "Trying to get another awful song stuck in my head?"

She smiles a little and looks down at her hands. "I hope –" she starts and then stops. Even though she's drinking water and eating, she still feels slow and not at full brainpower to figure out the words she wants to say. "I don't want you to think – if you don't want to see me after tonight, that's fine, I mean," she stutters, unable to figure out how to say that he doesn't have to feel _obligated_.

"Rory."

"Yeah?" she asks desperately, gratefully.

"What's your number?"

She blinks at him.

He stares back.

"What?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "You know, that portable device –"

"You're asking me for my number?"

"Yes…"

"For contact purposes."

"I thought that was implied in the request."

"Seriously?"

"Are you that surprised?" he asks curiously.

"Well…sort of," she admits. "You seem like you're on your Kerouac journey and –"

"Look, it's not like I can _commit_ to anything, but I'm reaching the point where _On the Road_ is losing its appeal and I've already read _Big Sur_ twice."

" _On the Road_ is obnoxious," she says.

"Great writing, though."

"Oh, absolutely."

He smiles a little. "What's the big deal about talking every once in a while?"

_Because I could seriously like you more than I already do_ , she thinks. There's also the fact that dating Luke's _nephew_ could have weird complications that she can't unravel at this point in time, but she doesn't think it matters; it's not nearly as important as how she feels when she looks at him.

"It's nice to have a conversation that doesn't spiral into a rant or an antagonistic debate," she concedes.

"What kind of company are you keeping, Gilmore?"

She smiles. "Only the best."

He smiles back and she breathes a little better.

**

At one point, they both fall asleep and don't wake up until the bright sun streaming from the blinds wakes them up.

"Oh, crap, what time is it?" Rory groans. Her head aches a little.

He brings his wrist so close to his face that he almost hits himself. "Almost eight."

She hides her face in his pillow and groans. Her mom is going to _kill her_.

"Let me take you back," he says gently.

She doesn't have much a choice.

**

His car is old and rusty and she loves it. The ride is quiet, each sipping on water bottles to curb the hangovers, but she doesn't mind.

"So," he says as her hotel is in sight. "What did you think?"

She rolls her head to look at him, smiling. "It was a rousing success."

"You like Vegas a little more?"

"I like you," she says honestly. She likes that she's not embarrassed.

And she really likes his smile – the one that he doesn't seem to give out very often.

"I'll see you before you leave," he promises.

"I'm going to hold you to that, mister."

Once he pulls in and parks the car, she leans in and kisses him briefly. Well, as briefly as she can manage – he really is a nice kisser.

**

There isn't a need to be quiet while she shuts the door behind her since her mom is already awake.

"Where were you?" her mom asks flatly.

Rory swallows. "Around," she answers, not knowing how to explain the casinos and the speakeasy and the strip club and –

Her mom sighs, dropping her head and the lines around her mouth are more evident. "I know you're an adult, legal in every since of the word now, but –"

"I did text you, saying I was fine."

"That could've been your kidnapper."

"Who someone has our secret code to make sure that isn't the case?"

"They could've gotten it out of you."

Rory sighs. "Mom."

"This isn't the safest area."

"Neither is New Haven, but I exist there just fine."

"That's different – there's a bubble around the Yale campus."

"We didn't travel across the desert – we just went a casino and a speakeasy and strip club."

"A _strip club_?"

"It's a long story."

Her mom eyes her dress. "Your dress is looking a little wrinkled."

Rory flushes. "Nothing happened."

"And what does _that_ mean?"

"It means there was no need for a condom – do you _really_ want to talk about this?" Rory crosses her arms over her chest, wanting to hide away.

"Not particularly, but –"

"Besides, it's not like Jess is a _total_ stranger."

" _Jess_ – who the – oh my God…you mean that _guy_? The one on your birthday who you were sitting with? You were with him, weren't you? God, I _knew_ you liked him, I could tell. I _saw_ you talking with him."

Rory swallows over the lump in her throat. "You know how Luke has a sister?"

Her mom blinks a few times. "Uh, yeah, Liz, what does _that_ have to do with anything?" As soon as she finishes the question, her mouth parts in surprise. "What did you say his name was again?" she asks carefully.

"Jess," Rory sighs.

Her mom shakes her head. "Wow…I just… _what_?"

"I'll give you a minute. We needed time to recover."

"How the _hell_ did you figure this out?"

"He recognized Stars Hollow."

"That's _unbelievable_."

"I know."

"I don't think anyone has experienced that before from Stars Hollow _ever_. This is history."

"So…not a _total_ stranger," Rory repeats.

"Not a total stranger." Pause. "So…"

"I mean, we're officially, quasi-involved in each other's lives now."

"You got his number."

Rory smiles.

"You got a drifter's number."

"He's not a _drifter_."

"Uh, yeah, he is."

"He's on the tail end of it. He's planning to settle down."

"Alright, alright." Her mom takes a deep breath. "God, when Luke finds out…"

"I'll tell him," Rory says, surprising herself. "I should tell him."

Her mom furrows her brow at her. "Are you sure, kid? I mean, he _is_ my fiancé, after all."

"Yeah, but he'll basically be my step-dad, which, I mean…he basically has been all along," Rory responds softly. "Besides, he'll think you're pulling one on him and won't believe you at first," she tries to joke.

"…That is true," her mom allows.

"But first, I think I need a few more hours of sleep," Rory yawns. "You mind?"

"I'll order some room service."

Her mom brings her in for a hug and Rory shuts her eyes, feeling like a weight has lifted off her shoulders.

**

Rory calls Luke after her mom falls asleep by the pool.

"Hey, Luke," Rory greets.

" _Oh no, did Lorelai put you up to this?_ " Luke demands.

"What?"

" _You're not_ actually _in prison, so don't even_ try _it –_ "

"Luke, no, I'm not calling from prison. I'm in the hotel. I haven't done anything remotely worth being arrested for. Come on, you know me."

Luke takes a deep breath. " _Okay._ " Pause. " _You're okay, right? Nobody's hurt?_ " he asks quickly.

She can't imagine he has normal blood pressure at this point. "Shouldn't those have been your first questions?" she jokes. "We're both fine. I'm, uh, actually calling you to tell you something."

" _Oh, is this about you meeting Jess?_ "

Her jaw drops and she swears it's touching the floor. "How do _you_ know –"

" _He called me a few hours ago. Almost didn't believe him, but I haven't seen the kid since he was six._ "

When she finally finds her thoughts, she says, "I can honestly say I never thought he'd call to tell you that."

" _I'm not saying it was the most_ pleasant _experience. I know I'm not the most easy-going person. Definitely more on the awkward side –_ "

"You don't say," Rory teases lightly.

" _But it was fine. He said he'd let me know when he made his way back east and we could meet. I'm sure it'll be mostly uncomfortable, but I'm looking forward to it._ "

"Oh, well. Okay. Great! I just…wanted to make sure you knew, since…" she trails off.

" _He likes you. I mean, who wouldn't. But…yeah._ "

She smiles. "Thanks, Luke. I'll see you tomorrow night."

" _See you. Be safe._ "

She hangs up, thinks for a moment, and then calls Jess.

" _Mariano._ "

"Oh, you picked up," she says stupidly.

" _Wasn't that why you tried to call me?_ "

"I thought you'd be working."

" _I would_ never _work on the highest of holy days, Ms. Gilmore,_ " he says, affronted.

She rolls her eyes. "Of course, how could I forget your strong moral values?"

He laughs a little. " _What's up?_ "

"You called Luke."

" _So did you, evidently._ "

"Yes, but –"

" _It's a good thing I did since, apparently, I've missed out on a lot of birthday money, so that's one more thing to hold against Liz._ "

She bites her bottom lip. "I'm sorry if this…pushed a reunion you weren't looking for."

" _Not your fault,_ " he says. " _As painful as it was, it was good, in a way. Nice to know that he tried to help._ "

She doesn't know what exactly growing up was like for him – she can gather that it wasn't nice, given the way he seemed to magically sober up while walking down Las Vegas Boulevard last night. "Well, now that you're really on his radar, there's no getting rid of him," she says. "This is the last thing I'll say about it, but he's really important to me. And my mom. He may put off like he doesn't care, but he does. Probably more than any of us."

He's quiet on the other line. " _Okay._ "

"Okay." She takes a deep breath. "So, this is…still day two of us knowing each other. Want to meet my mom tonight?"

He snorts. " _As long as alcohol is involved – why not?_ "

**

So that's how Rory, her mom, and Jess find themselves at the Venetian a few hours later, nursing drinks. Rory doesn't know _how_ Jess can drink whiskey after the night before; she doesn't think she'll ever have hard alcohol again.

"So…Luke's nephew. Jess," her mom states awkwardly, taking a huge sip of her martini.

"Mariano," he supplies, also taking a rather large drink himself.

"I met your mom a few times. She's…kooky."

He snorts. "Yeah, she's something."

"How did you end up here?" Rory asks, desperate to start a normal conversation.

He focuses on her and smirks. "I thought you said you liked Kerouac."

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Seriously? You're a cliché."

"It's not a cliché when you have viable reasons."

"Wannabe Beat."

"You'd be cute if you weren't annoying."

She smiles and looks to her mom. "I learned from the best."

Her mom stares at them and finally gives a tentative smile. "The lack of swarm is an appeal."

" _Mom_ ," Rory sighs, exasperated, but Jess is smirking. "Yeah, yeah, you liked him when you were betting his money," she says to him.

"I thought you said that was a gift. Technically, it was yours. And you gave your fully informed consent," he counters.

"Semantics," she grumbles.

"Did you win?" her mom asks.

"Forty bucks," Jess says. "Half of it went to a strip club, though."

Her mom looks at him with a challenge. "Who was the lucky girl?"

"Mom –"

"Her name's Shane – I told her to buy herself a bacon cheeseburger after work and give the rest to her two year old monster to start saving for college."

Her mom looks to Rory. "Seriously?"

"Nah, I really told her to put it towards her daughter's first set of lock-picking tools. Much more useful."

Rory opens her mouth to do damage control, but her mom is quick to ask, "So, you're friends with a stripper?"

"She prefers to be identified as an exotic dancer," Jess answers before finishing his drink. Rory would like for him to be in very little clothing now, if she's being honest with herself.

"My mistake," her mom quips, the beginning of a smile tugging on the corner of her mouth. "No college?"

"Nope, no plans, either."

"One last question."

"I'm going to need another whiskey soda," Jess comments to the bartender.

"What are you intentions with my daughter?"

"You know what, get me a double tequila," Rory adds on to Jess' order.

Jess glances at her with an amused expression. "Maybe spend more time with her sober than not."

Rory smiles at him briefly before rounding on her mom. "Satisfied? You said I was an adult – you can't have it both ways."

"Of course I can, I'm your mother," she sniffs, sounding remarkably like Emily Gilmore.

"Did I pass?" he asks wryly, sending the bartender a grateful look when a fresh drink is placed in front of him.

"You did – she begrudgingly likes you," Rory answers for her.

"I'm not sure about _that_ ," her mom says.

"As she said, she's an adult. She can make up her own mind."

"And have you?" her mom asks directly.

"I don't fear potentially committing myself. I'm not sixteen anymore," Jess scoffs. 

"Okay, I like him," her mom announces.

" _What_?" Rory asks, shocked.

"I thought that was the general idea of this outing – you should sound more elated," Jess points out, drinking at a slower pace now that the questioning seems to have ended.

"I just think the lack of commitment is something you should grow out of," her mom says.

Rory picks up on it immediately. "Stop it." Her shots arrive and she down one of them.

"Is this about rich boy?" Jess asks.

Rory is about to end this conversation when her mom asks, "You know about Logan?"

He winces. "Even his name sounds douchey."

"Have you heard his last name?"

"No, what is it? Bingley?"

"He really does read," her mom says, impressed. "It's Huntzberger."

He blinks in surprise. " _Those_ Huntzbergers?"

"Yeah, _those_ Huntzbergers."

"Mitchum Huntzberger looks like an asshole," Jess says with derision.

"Put his drinks on my tab," her mom says to the bartender.

Rory groans and takes her second shot. "Logan isn't _bad_. He's just…not looking for exclusivity. Which is fine. But I am. So." She looks away, embarrassed, not understanding how it came to this.

While her mom flirts with the bartender in order to get shots for free, Jess leans in and murmurs, "Sorry – if you really like him –"

"It doesn't even remotely compare to this," she interrupts him with a shrug of her shoulders. "It's – whatever," she finishes lamely, drinking more of her beer. Although now she wants a margarita. She thinks she can handle it, as long as it's mostly tequila.

"We'll talk later. Let's try not to get wasted this time," he says, finishing his second drink.

Right.

**

They're not _wasted_ , but they're definitely intoxicated enough. Especially since her mom makes a comment about how weirdly _similar_ Jess and Luke are despite not having interacted in over a decade and Jess not caring about it. Also Rory is starting to lean against him a little - she doesn't care that her mom occasionally stares at them.

"Okay, I'm going to try my hand at Black Jack – I'm feeling lucky. Find me later," her mom says, getting to her feet. "It was surprisingly nice meeting you, Jess. You're not too much like Gonzo."

"Not really a fan of Sunshine Acid. Thanks for the drinks," he says, raising his half-empty glass.

Her mom gives her a last look, letting her know that she is _so_ not off the hook and that they will probably spend at least an hour discussing and dissecting this later. Rory finishes off the last of her drink and focuses on Jess.

"So much for sober," she says.

He smirks. "We're _definitely_ better than yesterday."

"There was nowhere to go but up."

"Hey, at least the night was remembered," he points out.

"Well, most of it. There are some transition periods that are a bit blurry."

"That's normal. They weren't important anyway, knowing how you got from point A to point B."

"Sort of, it was from the strip club to your bed."

He gives her a slow smile. "Now that _really_ isn't important."

She grins. "Guess not."

"Excuse me, can we have a menu?" Jess asks a passing waitress.

"You know me so well," Rory says. _He's not supposed to_ , she thinks, but she doesn't mind one bit. "If you get the deluxe grilled cheese and I get the burger, would you be open to splitting?" she asks after glancing through the menu. "I'll give you my avocados."

"You know me so well," he repeats. "Double order of fries, though."

" _Obviously_."

**

"We should be somewhat realistic," Rory sighs, using a long fry to push her other fries around her plate for the past two minutes. "You'll still be here while I'll be in New Haven tomorrow night."

"The telephone is a magical device – I thought we established that last night."

"Yeah, but it's not like – you'll be in Philadelphia. That's pretty far."

"Look, Rory, this isn't high school – we're not limited by our school or town. And there are no _Bye, Bye Birdie_ implications – you can do what you want to do and so can I, if that's what we want, but, we have cars. My work will probably take me to your neck of the woods. It's not easy, but it's not complicated, either."

"I tried the not being exclusive thing, sort of, and it's not me. If there's something here, then, that's it. But I know that's not for everyone."

"Rory."

"Yeah?"

"I wouldn't be saying any of this shit if I wasn't serious."

She swallows. "Okay. So. We'll see how it goes." She lifts her glass up.

He clinks his glass with hers. "We'll see how it goes."

"I'm still going to make a lot of pro-con lists about this when I'm perfectly sober."

"Sure – you can do it over lunch with me tomorrow."

He's smiling a little at her and it's not fair. Why did they have to meet _here_ and _now_? If only –

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I'd bring an extra pen – I've been known to use an entire up in one sitting."

**

The thing is, even though it'll probably be months until they're on the same side of the country, Rory still doesn't like the idea of this gray-area that they're potentially committing themselves to - she doesn't like this ‘in the future, we'll definitely, probably, hopefully be together' – it's not appealing. She likes definitive boundaries she likes labels, and Jess is already enough of a mystery man.

"So, let me get this straight," her mom says from bed as Rory packs her suitcase. "You've agreed that there's something between you guys, and that you'll keep in touch until he decides he's ready to move back east, and _then_ you'll reevaluate whether or not you want to potentially be in a relationship."

Rory stops packing. "Yeah, okay, that's stupid," she admits out loud.

"To be fair, you've been consuming _way_ more alcohol than coffee these past few days. It's only understandable that your brain is mush without its main source of fuel."

Rory sighs. "I mean it's stupid, but, what else is there to do? We can't just start _dating_ or being _exclusive_ – that's absolutely ridiculous. As much as I like a good romance, even I know that's a bit much to ask from a guy in his early-twenties."

"No, you know that's too much for _Logan_ ," her mom corrects her. Her mom shakes her head. "Look, I'll admit this is rather... _unconventional_ to say the least, but from my perspective, you guys weirdly...fit. Like, really well. I don't believe in love at first sight crap –"

"We're _not_ –"

"But you guys are the closest I've ever seen that being the case."

Rory inhales and exhales sharply. "We're _not_ in love. That isn't what it is," she says with certainty. "I just…"

"You want him in your life," Lorelai finishes for her.

Rory shrugs helplessly. "I'll take what I can get."

"Spoken like a true romantic at heart."

Rory rolls her eyes. "Alright, I'm done packing. I'm passing out."

"I don't know _why_ when we have all _all day_ tomorrow to pack. You could've been cozy with me in bed."

"We don't have _all day_ \- our flight is at three and we have to be at the airport early, especially since we're checking in a bag this time because _someone_ had to buy snowglobes."

" _What_? They're great – you cannot deny that Elvis one. It's going straight onto Luke's nightstand to scare him."

Rory laughs. "Still. Not at all day."

Even though Rory is tired and still a little tipsy, her mind still loops around thoughts of Jess a while after her mom falls asleep.

**

Her mom is rushing to pack because all her belongings are scattered about and they overslept, so Rory doesn't feel too badly abandoning her mom to grab lunch with Jess.

"You weren't kidding about that pro-con list," he notes bemusedly, bringing his mug to his mouth.

"I never kid about pro-con lists," Rory says. "That's how I make all my major decisions, like college."

"Who were the unfortunate contenders to Yale?"

"Harvard and Princeton."

He raises his eyebrows. "Huh."

She blushes. "I always wanted to go to Harvard. My whole life, that was the plan," she admits.

"What changed your mind?"

She shrugs. "A lot of things. I visited the campus, I did more research. It had all the classes I wanted. And as a bonus it was close to home. My mom, my boyfriend at the time."

"Do you regret it?" he asks.

She thinks about it for a moment. "Sometimes I think about ‘what ifs,'" she starts slowly. "But I love Yale and I like the way my life is turning out, so there aren't really regrets."

He nods. She wants to ask him about his regrets, but that might be a conversation for another time. "Okay. So, where do we start with a pro-con list?" he asks.

"Let's do the cons first." She looks down at her empty page and immediately starts writing, _Philly + NH too far away_. "Too far away," she says out loud.

"How do you _define_ too far? It's only a 176.2 mile distance."

She blinks. "You looked it up?"

He stares at her, his jaw clenching for a moment. "Yeah."

She bites her bottom lip, looks down at her list, and adds _176.2 miles_ to the pro-side.

He smiles like he knows.

**

"I can't remember the last time I had an even split," she says in disbelief.

"I can't believe you wrote on the con side that I _stan_ Hemingway," he scoffs.

"This hasn't happened to me before."

He shakes his head, taking his last fry and dipping it in her perfected salt and pepper dip. "Maybe you need to just _go with your gut_ or _follow your heart_ or whatever cheesy cliché is appropriate or preferred."

She almost wants to call him out, like he somehow rigged her system and made it ineffectual, but the logical part of her brain has been malfunctioning since she met him and she's bothered by the fact that she's missing two literature classes right now; her mom had to _beg_ her to take off Monday to make it a proper long weekend. Even though she gave notice to her professors and handed in her papers ahead of time, she still feels rebellious and a little wrong, even though sitting across from him feels right.

It's probably strangely selfish, not to mention stupid, but she says, "Okay."

He gives her a soft smile, one that she wants to see everyday, if possible. "Okay."

"I would…prefer you not to see anyone else. If, I mean, that's acceptable," she stutters, but it's important and sort of a deal breaker for her. She doesn't need another Logan.

The corner of his mouth twitches, like it's funny. There's anger stirring in her gut, but he says, "That's acceptable."

The sudden loss of anger is startling. "Really?"

"I don't know Luke very well, but I think I'm beginning to," he says cryptically. "Any other terms you would like to hash out before I order peach pie?"

"They have peach pie?"

"Yes, they do."

"I love peach pie."

He smirks. "I figured."

"No, that's it. Pie time," she says excitedly.

"Are we going to shake it on it first?" he asks teasingly.

She lips her bottom lip. "No." She stands up and leans across to kiss him, much to his evident surprise. But he meets her back and it's sweet and good. "There, it's done."

"Wouldn't you say it's just beginning?"

"You think you're so smart."

"I'm a borderline genius."

_He probably is_ , she considers. His brain is remarkable and she needs all the time in the world to explore it. But she'll start with dessert.

**

She kisses him goodbye and feels the light stubble on his jawline and the way he holds her, hands low on her hips and she loves how she can breathe, that it's not like Dean where it sometimes felt claustrophobic. She'll miss his directness and focus – how his mouth moves against hers. Even though he claims to loathe school, he studies better than anyone she knows.

"I'll call you when I'm back on campus," she murmurs.

He hums and distracts her again.

"Jess," she starts.

He hushes against her mouth and she grins.

"I have to go," she says sadly.

"Not yet," he says.

She pecks him on the mouth and takes a step back. He lets her go, hands moving so they're gently tugging on the ends of her zip-up sweater. "I'll let you know my schedule and you'll tell me yours and we'll work around them both."

He laughs a little. "Okay."

"I'm also going to ransack Luke's apartment and try to find some baby pictures," she tells him.

He rolls her eyes. "Yeah, we'll see."

He's underestimating the lengths a Gilmore will go to in order to procure blackmail material. It's okay, though, he'll learn soon enough. "It was nice to meet you," she says.

He laughs for a moment. "It was nice to meet you too," he responds, trying very hard to curb his amusement.

She tries not to be teary-eyed, but she's only human. Plus, she thinks she's gotten horrible sleep after the past couple of nights of going to bed drunk, so that probably doesn't help. But it's mostly just saying goodbye to him.

**

Her mom doesn't say anything until they've sat down in the terminal.

"Only you would take a rowdy, no-strings-attached trip like Vegas and _somehow_ find yourself a guy who would happily date you exclusively _and_ through long-distance," her mom says, exasperated.

Rory snorts and shakes her head. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"A little, but I don't know. Seeing you two together – it…works. I certainly like him better than Logan, although I'm not that thrilled with Jess'…lack of future."

"He's going to work for a publishing company. And I'm pretty sure he wrote a book."

"Pretty sure?"

"He didn't say – one of his friends started to mention it. But with his brain and everything – I'm sure it's amazing. He'll do good things."

"It'll be hard," her mom warns her.

"I know."

"Your relationship with Dean was different – he was a half hour away and could fit around your schedule. This is going to be a lot harder," her mom continues.

Rory stares at her mom and just repeats, "I know."

Her mom swallows and nods. "Okay."

**

(On the plane, she skims through her copy of _Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_ and his handwriting is scattered through the pages. She skips to the page she almost has memorized, reads what he wrote beside _forced conscious expansion_ and smiles.)

**

They land in Hartford a little before midnight and by the time Rory leaves for Yale from Stars Hollow, it's almost one in the morning.

She calls Jess once she pulls out of her driveway because she can't wait.

" _Hey,_ " he greets.

"Hey, I'm on my way back to Yale."

" _Didn't Connecticut adapt the no cell phones while driving law? I didn't realize what a wild child you were._ "

"It's hands-free, Frasier. I just wanted company. So what did you do over the last few hours?"

" _Did a quick shift at the diner for a sick busboy,_ _read and babysat._ "

"You mean you watched over the two year old whom you absolutely adore?"

" _Shane needed sleep and I had to give the rest of our winnings to them. I told Shane to put it in Willa's account for whatever the fuck she wants._ "

"That's sweet."

" _I kept whispering ‘lock picking' tools while she took a nap._ "

"I'm sure you did."

" _So what's your schedule?_ "

"Typically, Mondays are good from eleven to one, or after five. Tuesdays and Wednesdays are terrible, I barely get to talk to my mom, so don't even try. Thursdays I'm booked all morning, but I'm done with my last class at three. And Fridays I just have class at noon and am done by two."

" _Sounds doable_."

"You'll have to tell me yours when I have access to paper and pen because I don't have quite the memory you do."

" _My schedule is not remotely like yours and much easier to keep track of; I don't need a calendar_."

Rory takes a deep breath.

" _One day at a time, Gilmore._ "

"Right. We can do this."

" _We're not a sports team. Besides, I've been invited to Thanksgiving._ "

"Uh, _excuse me_ , why didn't you share _that_ information a few hours ago?"

" _Because I was very awkwardly extended an invite through your mother, which Luke confirmed while you were forty-thousand feet in the air._ "

"I didn't know my mom asked you." She'll have to buy a few bags of the novelty coffee in New Haven as a thank you.

" _She probably didn't want you to see the messages. It's pretty bad._ "

"Please tell me you saved them."

" _Of course I did. She can erase them from her phone, but it'll live forever in mine._ "

"You'll fit right into the clan."

" _Oh, and I asked Luke – there are only two pictures of me in Stars Hollow, one of which was taken when I was a day old and another when I was reading_ Corduroy _when I was four. Nothing remotely mockable about that._ "

"Unless you were an ugly kid," she counters.

" _Please, I was adorable_ ," he scoffs.

She grins. "Did everyone say you were a handsome boy?"

" _Until I started hiding specific colored markers in the classroom and everyone had to draw landscapes with the use of only yellow, purple, orange, and red. After that, my stellar personality was the focal point of most conversations held about me in school._ "

She is so _screwed_. "I had the most gold stars in my first grade class."

He laughs. " _And you still have the charts,_ " he guesses.

She flushes. "My mom hoards everything in the garage."

" _Sure, if that's your story._ " They're both quiet. The highway is relatively empty and she's cold, unused to the typical fall temperatures. " _So, I'll speak to you Thursday, then?_ "

She smiles. "If you don't mind potentially hearing Paris yelling in the background. She gets in a particular frenzy after working at the _Yale Daily News_."

" _I'm very curious about her._ "

"Haven't you heard the expression ‘curiosity killed the cat'? Except instead of the cat it's your sanity."

" _You seem relatively fine._ "

" _Relatively_?"

" _Your coffee consumption is mildly concerning._ "

"Oh, baby, that was _way_ below my typical intake."

" _No way._ "

She's definitely going to be sending him photographic evidence of her coffee for the next few days. "Yes."

He sighs in exasperation. " _I'll speak with you later._ "

"Sure. I'd also rethink your phone plan."

" _I'll see what I can do. Later._ "

"Bye." She hangs up and a few minutes later, she's getting off the exit to New Haven.

She needs to plan out her week - she has to see Logan at some point and tell him that whatever they're doing has to stop and that she'd be more than happy being friends. Also she'll most likely work out a payment plan to give him back what she spent with Jess since she's pretty sure using another guy's money to flirt with another guy is low. Still, there's a lightness in her chest that she hasn't experienced in years and she likes it.

When she crawls into bed, she sees a new text:

From Jess Mariano:  
_You vandalized my book – copycat._

From Rory Gilmore:  
_If you can write in my margins, I can write in yours._

From Jess Mariano:  
_Dirty._

From Rory Gilmore:  
_Only minorly intentional._

From Jess Mariano:  
_And what was the major intention?_

From Rory Gilmore:  
_That I do unto you what you do unto me_ – _it's a spin off of the Golden Rule._

From Jess Mariano:  
_In that case, you need to do more unto me_ – _I've written in more margins than you._

From Jess Mariano:  
_That was majorly intentional._

From Rory Gilmore:  
_I need to go to sleep._

From Jess Mariano:  
_Right – this time difference should make things interesting._

From Rory Gilmore:  
_Night, Jess._

From Jess Mariano:  
_Night, Rory._

It takes her a while to fall asleep - because of the time difference, but also because she can't stop periodically grinning. While she didn't feel a rush on any form of gambling available in the Vegas casinos, she's glad the one gamble she made was a huge win.


End file.
